Page 26 of Nightingale

They both shared the same tawny skin tone, the same chocolate hair, and the leanness handed down from their mother. Teminos was slightly lighter than she was, but that was where the differences stopped. They’d been called twins multiple times in their lives, even with the age gap between them and Vrea liked him most of all out of her siblings.

Eamin was the worst.

He was rude, cutthroat and a killer.

He’d turned thirty-two when she’d left for her mission, which meant he was nearing thirty-six now if her math had been correct regarding the days that passed since her capture. He took after their mother the least, with his cunning brown eyes and long black hair.

Which left Malik, who Vrea rather liked as well. Not as much as Teminos, but the three of them often shared some good times. He snuck her books whenever she was supposed to be asleep, even if he was a decent amount younger than her.

But the Moordians had a bad habit of killing them off, so Eamin had privately pulled her aside and asked her if she wanted revenge. Something she very much did, because of Tessa and her young death. The death was orchestrated by Theseus in order to take out Alpheus, which failed.

Vrea had poisoned him in return.

Mira and her twin Zara, who had come only a year after Cyril, had been slain because of it. Tortured and strung up like a banner. It was a never-ending wheel that rotated, on and on with endless names and targets as revenge for others passing away as a result of the bitter feud between houses.

Eamin had personally suggested going after Rian next since he’d been his father’s favourite, according to his sources. And as the last, living daughter of the Greenvass house, no one expected her to be the one to take him out.

Somehow though, they’d been expecting her.

Looking for her as if they held a physical description and knew who to look out for. Because as soon as she’d swung onto the balcony of the eighth story tower of Hawksmoor, and unhooked her harness, she’d been caught almost instantly. Way too fast for men who had never seen her before, unless they recalled the shape of her face from when she’d stolen a maid’s costume and donned it, dropping the poison into a bowl of soup and stirring it until it dissolved.

But now she opened the door to her target’s room after all this time and took in the details of her surroundings as he came in behind her and quietly shut the door with aclickof the lock so that they wouldn’t be disturbed. Not as quiet as Castil, but still impressive.

Though if how silent one could close a door rendered her asimpressive,Vrea knew she’d been locked away for far too long.

There was a massive bed with sheer curtains of emerald green that fluttered in the wind from the opened balcony doors across the chequered floor of ivory and ebony. There was a fat table with curved sides between the bed and the low couch, with a couple of doors along the furthest wall. In the corners, on either side of the bed, potted plants rose tall and made the bed appear as if it were in some sort of jungle or forest. They bore no fruitsso she assumed it was for mere decoration.

She hadn’t been allowed such in her chamber.

Vrea crossed over to the table, running her hand along the gold surface and finding cold metal to meet her touch. There was a blue tray atop it, with a carafe and a couple of glasses. She didn’t trust anything here enough to pour one for herself and chug it, even if her throat was raw.

“It’s not poisoned,” Rian said as he passed her, and she caught a glimpse of the back of his auburn hair as he made for the first door, twisting the knob and opening it for her.

He was handsome, she supposed in a rugged way. His face was square and his skin held more of a yellow hue than hers, but only lighter by a shade or two. Unlike her siblings, none of the Moordians looked alike. Some may have shared some alarming features, enough to shrug it off, but none truly looked like brothers.

“I don’t trust you.” She retorted and he shrugged, unbothered. “Any of you.”

“Do or don’t. If you die of thirst, at least your siblings will know that I offered it to you first.” He checked for something in the room that she could now see was a bathing room. He opened another door out of her sight and began to rummage through soft things, by the sound of fabric rustling.

“They wouldn’t believe you. I’m sure they’d find some reason to blame you for my death in the end, which would result inyourend.” She stated, and watched as he emerged a second later, carrying a couple articles of clothing.

“These belonged to Daria before she passed away. You look roughly her size, and well, you can’t be travelling across either land in thatthing.” Rian explained as he pointed towards the mess of a pink dress that she’d ripped for better mobility. “Besides, it’s trousers which I have no doubt you’d prefer.”

Vrea took them as he offered them out to her, checking eachpiece before deeming them appropriate and harmless.

“Unless you’d rather I find another pretty gown for you to wear?” He questioned with a humorous glint in his azure eyes. “Or nothing?”

“I’d rather die.” She said flatly.

“I can arrange that, you know.” Rian jested, laying himself on the couch she stood before, shifting out of the silk flats that were a size too small for her. “Many of my brothers would just jump at the chance to slit your lovely neck, to stab you in the back or return the favour for Theseus.”

His balcony was open.

Vrea glanced down at her shoe.

And let her intrusive thoughts from the other night win. She tossed one out the window, then the next.

He chuckled at that.

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